


Works for Bolinlover123

by aTaCo9



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blood, Brother Feels, Brotherhood, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Brothers, Cancer, Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Leukemia, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Rape/Non-con Elements, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2018-12-30 13:18:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12109551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aTaCo9/pseuds/aTaCo9
Summary: This is a collection of scenes written for incorporation within stories by Bolinlover123. The stories are set in various AU universes (some more closely related to the Headcanon universe than others) and deal with a wide range of situations, which are described at the start of each chapter. All of the stories focus on the relationship between Mako & Bolin.Chapters 3, 4, 5, and 11 are set in the universe in which Bolin is the Avatar. So far, all other chapters are set in the universe in which Bolin has Leukemia.In this first chapter Bolin has Leukemia and Mako takes him to the hospital for his first chemo treatment. Lots of hurt/comfort, angst, and feels.





	1. Chapter 1

The hospital is too bright, too white, too warm. Mako feels blinded as he enters, his brother at his side, and squeezes his eyes together automatically. He glances over at Bolin who has stopped in front of the receptionist’s desk, an expression of panic playing across his features. Mako reaches for him automatically, and squeezes his shoulder in what he hopes is a reassuring manner. 

As Bolin checks in at the counter Mako takes steadying breathes in an effort to quell his dread. _In, out. In, out. In, out._ Proper breath control is vital to firebending, and Mako has been practicing it since he was a toddler. Nonetheless he cannot fully control the jolts of anxiety that shoot through him as he thinks about what will soon take place.

The cancer had been detected just a week prior. Seemingly overnight Mako began attributing characteristics to his brother that he never before would have thought to associate with the strapping earthbender: _fragile, sickly, frail, infirm._ Dark circles had blossomed underneath Bolin’s eyes, and he now had large bruises on his left arm where he has repeatedly had blood drawn. A troubled expression seems to have permanently settled onto his features, and he hasn’t laughed once since the diagnosis. 

They are escorted to a small room without any windows. Even though the furnishings are sparse—only a bed, a chair, and some medical equipment—Mako almost instantly feels claustrophobic. Bolin changes into the pale blue hospital gown silently and lies down on the bed, Mako taking his hand as he lowers himself into the visitor’s chair. 

The pastel blue of the gown clashes terribly with Bolin’s olive skin and emerald eyes, giving Mako the impression that he is even feebler than before. Bolin’s lower lip begins to tremble and terrible emotions fill the firebender’s chest: anguish over Bolin’s fear, despair that he cannot alleviate it, and horrible helplessness which constantly threatens to overwhelm him. Mako swallows away his pain and reminds himself that _this isn’t about him._ He begins to make a sort of shushing sound, and strokes up and down Bolin’s arm comfortingly. 

The nurse who inserts the IV is incompetent. Mako grits his teeth and feels fire seething within him as she pokes Bolin’s left arm multiple times on top of his established bruises. Bolin just bites his lip and stoically stares ahead at the doorframe until she is done. Finally the drugs begin to descend into his arm, and Mako looks away, unable to watch. 

After about fifteen minutes, Bolin suddenly motions to be handed a bucket. Mako delivers it to him just in time before he is violently ill. A minute or two passes, and he is ill again, choking and coughing. Mako digs his nails into his palms, hard, in order to distract himself from his brother’s distress. It doesn’t work; with nothing left in his stomach Bolin dry heaves every few minutes, making dreadful gagging and retching sounds in the process.

After it is over the doctor tells them that they’ve decided to admit Bolin overnight. Mako only half listens to his explanation; he nods his head as phrases like _white blood cell count_ and _extreme side effects_ are discussed, but doesn’t comprehend what is being said. He is too preoccupied with the incongruity of the situation: his sweet little brother, amiable and charismatic, friend to helpless animals, criminals, and street urchins is completely out of place in this cramped room with its blazing brightness, gleaming metallic equipment, and stench of sickness. 

Eventually everyone else leaves and dusk falls. The nurse had lowered the back of Bolin’s bed so that he is now lying prostrate. He is on his right side, facing Mako, and the earthbender studies his brother’s face in the near darkness. Mako tries to smile, but is pretty sure the expression he maintains is closer to a wince. He looks away and bites the inside of his cheek to keep his emotions in check. 

“Mako?” Bolin’s voice sounds brittle in the dimness. 

Mako clears his throat. “Yeah, Bo?” he says gently. 

“Will you sing to me?”

Mako couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket if his life depended on it, but he agrees instantly anyways. He reaches for Bolin and grips his brother’s hand, squeezing it gently and stroking his fingers alongside his calloused palm. Mako begins to tunelessly sing the words their mother used to serenade the boys with when they were small:

_Red shines the sun, filled with fire and warmth;_  
_Grey puffs the wind, swirling back and forth;_  
_Blue glints the water, twirling all around;_  
_Green glows the forest, sprouting from the ground._

Mako repeats the unmelodious verse over and over again, wishing he could remember the rest of the poem, until eventually Bolin’s eyes close and his breathing steadies. The firebender pulls up his blanket where it has slipped, and props up his own head with his free hand, resting his elbow on the mattress.

Tracing his brother’s relaxed features with his eyes, Mako settles in for a long and sleepless night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a second work for the universe in which Bolin has Leukemia. Mako takes Bolin to the hospital after his nose won't stop bleeding.

Mako had always loved red. Red was the color of the setting sun, the leaves in the fall, his father’s scarf, and what his mother had worn. Typically, red was beautiful.

But right now, it was terrifying.

Bolin was bleeding, everywhere. Blood was dripping down his face from his nose in long, winding rivulets. It was soaking through a rag onto his hands, his chest, his lap. 

At first Mako hadn’t been concerned. The spirits know that he has seen Bolin bleed before, many, many times. But it had always stopped in the past; that’s what blood does, normally—it stops.

Nothing had been normal since the diagnosis. 

Getting a cab took forever. The first two drove away, unwilling to host a blood-soaked patron in their fine leather seats. Supporting Bolin with one arm and sticking his other straight out, Mako ground his teeth and tried his best to steady his anger and frustration. Eventually one stopped that drove them, and the brothers made their way to the hospital without further delay. 

They were admitted to a room rather quickly, and Mako suspected that Bolin’s blood-coated front was an important factor in this decision. A nurse entered and handed them a gown for Bolin to change into. Mako undressed him slowly, peeling off each blood stained item of clothing individually. _Sash. Shirt. Belt. Shoes. Pants. Socks._ This activity reminded him of the earliest days on their own, before the young earthbender was old enough to fully dress himself. Mako used to say the name of each item of apparel individually, with Bolin echoing the word right after while giggling. Mako snorted, amused at the picture in his mind of the laughing six-year-old.

“Whuz so phunny?” asked Bolin, mouth half covered by a fresh rag. 

“Nothing important. Lift your arms,” Mako ordered, holding open the gown. Bolin obliged and the firebender tied it gently at his brother’s neck and back. Once again, the gown’s color—this time a sickening rose-petal pink—did not suit the earthbender in the slightest.

A medic entered the room with some pills and a spray bottle. Bolin took the pills from her and popped them into his mouth, swallowing them dry. He pointed at the bottle apprehensively.

“Whuz thas for?” he asked. The nurse indicated that they would have to spray it into his nose, and a look of trepidation settled onto his bloody features.

A jolt of sympathy shot through Mako. He crossed over to his brother quickly and took his right hand into his own. 

“It’s okay, Bo. I’m here.” He said soothingly, tracing the lines on the inside of Bolin’s palm as he spoke.

The medic administered the spray and Bolin was leaned back, ordered to keep pressure on the wound. Lying down with his nose plugged, he was forced to breathe through his mouth, which left him little opportunity for his favorite activity: talking.

Mako felt the silence of the room without his brother’s usual chatter. Bolin was staring straight up at the ceiling and Mako used the opportunity to study his features underneath the bright fluorescent lights. Though they were familiar, evidence of his sickness marred them: spots of blood that the nurse had missed cleaning up, brown rings tinged with a green hue under his eyes, and a purple bruise on the left side of his jaw. Instinctually, Mako reached up and stroked next to the bruise as if trying to smooth it over.

Green eyes shifted towards the gold and the firebender was relieved to note that the panic in his brother’s gaze had calmed. Mako moved his hand down to Bolin’s shoulder and started rubbing in slow, small circles as he had frequently done to comfort him as a child and adolescent. 

Eventually Bolin’s eyelids fluttered shut and his breathing grew more even. The bleeding had stopped and his muscular right arm dropped to his chest. Mako knew they would most likely be discharged shortly, but in the meantime he didn’t see any harm in letting his brother rest.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This work is set in an alternative universe in which Bolin is the Avatar. Team Avatar (Mako, Bolin, Korra, and Asami) fight a surprise Equalist attack together.

The Equalists descended seemingly from thin air, like wasps after a disturbance to their hive. They came from behind buildings, out of windows, and down fire escapes. After a few minutes it became clear that Bolin, Mako, Korra, and Asami were outnumbered, badly. 

The four friends took fighting stances and prepared to defend themselves. Asami readied her stolen electric glove and crouched into a defensive position, while Korra bent a long stream of water from her side pouch, preparing to strike. Instinctually Mako stepped in front of Bolin, making a fist with his left hand and holding up his right in a firebending form. His position echoed that of a thousand past confrontations, desperate experiences that the brothers had shared together. Even though Bolin had the potential to be far more powerful than the firebender, Mako was still his big brother—the caretaker, nurturer, protector. He would always draw the brunt of an attack onto himself if possible. 

Without warning the Equalists struck. Mako wondered if they had some sort of silent signal; if so, it was undetectable. He ran forward and pounded off a series of crippling fireballs at the front line.

At first it seemed like Team Avatar might be able to win. Mako was ahead of the other three, attempting to hold off the attackers with his searing flames. Korra had managed to take out four different Equalists with her quick maneuvering and dangerous ice. Asami, graceful and prancing through the air, had knocked out at least three. And Bolin, trained in street combat and probending, had handicapped six attackers alone with his columns of earth and precise boulder hurtling. 

Things took a turn for the worse after a few more minutes. Three Equalists ganged up on Asami and one managed to touch her white neck with an electric glove, knocking her unconscious. Korra was left limping from a gaping wound to her left thigh; she was pale and losing blood fast. Bolin and Mako moved in front of her, deflecting the charge. 

Without warning, the Equalists turned the brunt of their attack onto Mako, apparently deciding their best chance of success would be to take him out. Mako bent flames as fast as possible, but he wasn’t quick enough. One of the Equalists moved forward, breaching his defenses, and swung what appeared to be nightstick at his right shoulder.

_Thunk._ Mako cried out in pain and clutched at his injured arm. Red and white spots floated in front of his eyes and he swayed dizzily, afraid he might pass out.

“MAKO!” Bolin shouted. The earthbender hurled a chunk of rock at the Equalist, knocking him into a nearby building. Four others swarmed closer around Bolin, blocking him from providing further assistance. 

Breathing deeply, Mako stretched his legs widely, pushing against the ground. His right arm wouldn’t work right—it simply hung, limply. _Is it broken?_ Thought Mako, trying to move his fingers. Doing so sent a shooting stab of pain up his arm, and he bit his lip to keep from crying out again. 

Two Equalists were nearing the firebender, who raised his left wrist protectively. Mako shot out fireballs as the combatants approached, but his arm was shaking from the pain and his aim was off. One of the Equalists skirted around him and grabbed the wrist of his injured hand, shocking him.

Mako probably would have been knocked unconscious if his leather glove hadn’t protected most of his skin. As it was he was badly shocked and he staggered, falling to one knee. The other Equalist reached him and swung forwards, his fist making contact with Mako’s gut. 

Doubled over, Mako fell to the ground, and the Equalists were on him, punching and shocking his face, arms, and chest. He raised his left arm over his eyes in a defensive position, and began crying out and wincing with each blow. 

Very quickly it was over. Korra and Asami were already tied up, and Bolin soon succumbed. His hands were roughly bound behind his back while two Equalists stood at his side, ready to shock him at a moment’s notice. 

Mako lay on the ground, biting his lip and gripping his pained arm. One of the fighters was crouched next to the injured firebender, effectively immobilizing him; he had removed his facemask and he stared down at Mako, sneering. 

Without warning the man’s hand reached for Mako’s cheek and stroked down from his temple to his chin, suggestively. Startled, Mako jerked back as much as he could.

“Stop.” Mako ground out between clenched teeth as the Equalist raised his hand again. 

The man’s lip curled as he stroked down the firebender’s chin and neck. “Aren’t you pretty,” he drawled, reaching down and starting to undo Mako’s sash. Mako bit his lip and turned his head away, too nauseous from the pain to fight.

“GET OFF OF HIM!!!” shouted Bolin, who had gone deathly pale watching the scene and was shaking with rage. His voice sounded strange—deeper, more powerful, and echoing. 

Bolin’s eyes began to glow a bright white, and he suddenly rose up in the air while simultaneously breaking through the ropes that bound him. The Equalists who surrounded him cried out in shock and stepped backwards.

Mako’s eyes widened as the events unfolded. Bolin was floating— _floating!_ —somehow manipulating the air beneath his body in order to balance himself several feet above the ground. An enormous wall of earth was suddenly raised around Mako, sending the Equalist who had touched him flying like a ragdoll into a nearby building. He smacked against the outermost wall, hard, and crumpled to the ground, unmoving. 

Many things were now happening at once: towering columns of earth shot up in several places, throwing about most of the other Equalists. A large circle of flames sprouted around Asami, Kora, and Mako, pushing away their nearest attackers. A pipe underground suddenly burst and water came hurtling from beneath the street, immobilizing a dozen of their attackers by freezing them into place. 

It was terrifying. Mako’s mouth fell open as he gaped at Bolin’s power. Mako had read about the avatar state before—who hadn’t? But to experience it, live, was an entirely different matter. Bolin was wild, out of control, shooting off multiple elements at the same time seemingly without any regard for the value of human life. Mako knew that only extreme, uncontrolled emotions could trigger this outburst, and it was difficult to accept that Bolin was in such a searing state of emotional pain.

The ground trembled beneath Mako’s prostrate body. Was it Bolin causing the streets to shake? He heard violent splashing in the near distance, and realized Bolin must also be controlling the tides in the bay. 

Afraid that his brother would kill their attackers, he brought his good hand around his mouth. “Bolin!” Mako shouted. “Bolin, stop!” 

But Bolin didn’t seem to hear him. Nauseous and head spinning, Mako moved onto his knees. His outer shirt and sash gaped open where the Equalist had groped at him. Mako put one knee up and paused, attempting to stabilize himself as the ground lurched. 

“BOLIN!” he shouted, louder. Again no answer. 

The ground was vibrating and air whipped around in every direction. A fire escape groaned and suddenly fell off of a nearby building, crumpling to the ground in a heap. Mako redoubled his efforts, beginning to fear that in this state Bolin might be capable of accidentally harming his friends as well as his enemies. 

The injured firebender unsteadily rose to his feet and fought his way through the wind emanating from Bolin’s floating form. Gritting his teeth and bending forward he wobbled on. His brother was now just a few feet away. Mustering all of his strength Mako reached forward and latched onto his ankle. 

Bolin glared down at him, eyes glowing and expression formed into a terrible look of rage. Mako felt a jolt of fear, something Bolin had never before caused him to experience, but he did not let go.

“BOLIN!” Mako shouted up at him. “It’s me—Mako! Look, I’m fine; Korra and Asami are fine too! You don’t have to do this! Calm down!” 

Bolin continued to glare and the ground trembled even more violently. Mako tried again.

“Bolin, it’s okay—CALM DOWN! I’m here for you! Please—I…I love you!” Mako’s voice trembled both from fear and the effort of holding onto his brother. 

The spinning air surrounding Bolin dissipated, and he sank down onto the ground shakily. Still unstable on his feet, Mako wrapped his good arm around Bolin, preventing him from immediately falling to the ground with great effort. Bolin turned to face him, his eyes still glowing bright white. 

Mako spoke in a regular tone of voice. “Please, Bo; you’re scaring me!”

It was the use of his brother’s nickname for him that seemed to finally quell Bolin’s anger. His expression shifted, becoming unreadable, and his eyes returned to their regular emerald green. He sank down, seemingly exhausted, and Mako held him as he fell to the earth.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is another work set in an alternative universe in which Bolin is the Avatar. Team Avatar (Mako, Bolin, Korra, and Asami) argue over how Bolin should face Zaheer.

“None of these plans will work. Zaheer will kill the airbenders if he suspects we’re up to anything.” Bolin shook his head and looked around at those assembled before him: Su and Lin to his left, and Mako, Korra and Asami to his right. 

“Bolin, we have no other option,” Mako began reasonably. “We either attack from above or below—that’s it. Now we have to focus on creating the best possible offensive strategy.”

“I agree,” said Asami. “Zaheer might have taken out the Earth Queen but he isn’t going to murder innocent children in cold blood.” Mako nodded concurringly. 

“You don’t know that!” Bolin exclaimed. He had raised his voice, a rarity in itself. Everyone was giving him their full attention now. “Zaheer is insane. We have already seen that he’s capable of murder, and he has practically every airbender in the world captured and at his mercy. All of these plans result in their death.”

Suddenly Mako knew what Bolin was going to say before he spoke. He widened his eyes and stepped forward to stop him, but it was too late.

“The only plan that will work is me giving myself up to Zaheer.”

A pin dropping could have been heard in the ensuing silence. It was almost immediately disrupted by a slew of protests. 

“We can’t guarantee your safety…” began Lin.

“No, Bolin, we will find another way…” started Su. 

“That doesn’t even make sense!” Korra exclaimed, Asami nodding at her side. 

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” bellowed Mako, overpowering them all with a furious shout. Everyone turned to stare at him. “Bolin, this is NOT HAPPENING. I don’t want to hear anymore about this ridiculous self-sacrificing nonsense. You are NOT giving yourself up—I forbid it!”

Bolin’s expression softened and he spoke in a gentler tone of voice to his brother. “Mako, I have to. If the airbenders are killed then the world will be completely thrown out of balance. There are dozens of lives at stake—including those of Tenzin’s kids, and Kai. This is the only way—I have to do this.”

“NO IT’S NOT AND NO YOU DON’T!” Mako retorted, raising his right hand in frustration. An involuntary fireball burst from his fist, narrowly missing Lin as it shot across the tight cabin. Lin dunked reflexively and glared at him reproachfully, the wall behind her charred and smoking.

“Mako…” Bolin started again, but he was interrupted by the seething firebender.

“NO! YOU’RE NOT GOING—PERIOD! Case closed, end of discussion! I can’t…I can’t lose you…” Mako’s voice broke at his last utterance, and he looked away. He took a steadying breath, willing himself to calm down, forcing back tears of frustration and anger that were threating to spill over. 

Bolin stared at him, a strange expression on his face that Mako couldn’t quite place and a long moment of silence ensued. “Okay, Mako,” he said reassuringly. “You’re right. It was…a stupid plan. We’ll attack from above, instead. I think it makes more sense to gain the high ground early on.”

Mako breathed a sigh of relief and pointed towards the map that was spread out on the table over on the side of the room. “Good. I agree; attacking from the air makes the most sense. If the airship comes up from the south, like this, I think we will have our best chance of surprise…”

The discussion of strategy carried on long into the night.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is another work set in the universe in which Bolin is the Avatar. Mako deals with the aftermath of Bolin's decision to face Zaheer alone.

Dawn broke through the tiny window of the airship and Mako opened his eyes sleepily. He had been up late strategizing and hadn’t slept well, dreaming of possible calamities that could happen. If anything, their plan was far from foolproof. He sat up, turning to Bolin’s cot and stretching.

It was empty. 

Mako instantly felt a jolt of fear. Bolin never got up early, at least not voluntarily. Usually he had to be prodded from bed by Mako, who would have to shake him roughly in order to even get him to respond. 

Mako jumped out of bed and opened the door, immediately making for the control room. When he arrived Su and Lin and several of Su’s commanding metalbenders were sitting around the round table, hunched over with mugs of hot tea in front of them. 

Mako internally breathed a sigh of relief. Surely Bolin couldn’t have done anything stupid if Lin and Su were around. 

“Morning.” Mako said gruffly. Su and Lin glanced at one another before turning back to face him.

“What?” Mako asked them, searching their blank faces. “What is it? Where’s Bolin?”

“Mako.” Lin began, then hesitated. She started again. “Mako, early this morning we dropped off Bolin, Korra, and Asami about five miles east of the Air Temple. They should be meeting with Zaheer at any minute in order for Bolin to give himself up in exchange for the airbenders.” 

Mako stared at her blankly, processing her words. _Bolin…gone? Giving himself up?_ A slow terror was building up inside of him, threatening to spill out at the slightest provocation. 

“No…” he whispered dumbly, looking out the nearest window. The airship was hovering midair, and he could see the outline of the nearby Air Temple surrounded by mountains on every side in the faint morning light. 

Su had gotten up and had moved to stand behind him. She laid her arm on Mako’s shoulder, comfortingly. 

“Mako, they have a radio transmitter that we’ve been using to communicate with them. We are on standby, ready to attack if anything goes wrong.” Su said. 

“How could you let him do this?” Mako asked. His tone was emotionless, dull. 

Apparently at the end of her patience, Lin snapped back at him. “Stop acting like a child whose favorite toy has disappeared. This is war! We are here to support the Avatar, and this is the plan that he set forth. Our job isn’t to question him—it’s to take orders and see this through.”

Mako knew that he had lost. No one else would see the lunacy of this plan because nobody cared for Bolin the way he did. They saw him abstractly, as a protector, a savior of sorts, whose duty it was to see to the needs of others even if those needs required his surrender and capture. 

Mako’s chest had begun to ache and he felt like he might once again succumb to tears. He angrily pushed back from the table and started towards the window, looking for any sign of his brother and their friends.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a third work for the universe in which Bolin has Leukemia. Bolin has been recently diagnosed as terminal and has moved to the North Pole to have therapy sessions with Katara.

“Try to relax,” Katara said gently. Bolin sank against the side of the tub and the waterbender lifted her hands, making the liquid glow a soft white inside the darkened hut. 

Bolin sighed and leaned his head back. Katara bent the healing water up to his chin, enveloping him in a painless cocoon of warmth. 

It felt wonderful. Everything these days was so exhausting—moving, eating, even interacting with others. Such seemingly simple tasks were not only draining, but also painful; Bolin ached all over and rarely felt relief. The exception was in Katara’s therapy sessions. 

“That’s better,” she said, the water beneath her hands gently brushing against the young earthbender’s torso in warm waves.

“Mmmm.” Bolin murmured breathily. “That feels nice.”

Katara smiled, lines deepening across her ancient face. “Good; I’m glad.” She said, pushing her hands flat against the water’s surface. The liquid responded in kind, and seemed to almost melt into Bolin’s chest and arms. 

The waterbender continued her healing ministrations and the two sat together in silence for a few more minutes. 

Bolin broke the quiet with a rare admission. “I’m scared.” He whispered, turning his head and averting his gaze from the nearly translucent paleness of the elderly healer’s eyes. 

Katara pursed her lips and moved her hands in a circular motion. The water grew brighter, seeming to cause the healing effects to deepen, and Bolin sank even lower into the tub. Finally she spoke: “That’s natural. Your fear will lessen in time.” 

Bolin opened his eyes and turned to her. “Was Avatar Aang afraid? Before he died?” A look of pain crossed over Katara’s otherwise serene expression. 

“I’m sorry.” Bolin said quickly. “I didn’t mean to…”

“No, it’s alright.” Katara responded. “I…he…it was very peaceful. I think he had come to terms with it; we both knew it was going to happen. It is comforting to know that your spirit will continue on. Death is, after all, only a temporary separation.”

Bolin thought about this. “I hadn’t really considered it like that,” he said softly. “It would be nice to see my parents again.” His lips twisted into a small curve and he looked up at Katara. 

She smiled back. 

The two benders settled into an amiable silence as the waves shone and lapped at Bolin’s emaciated frame. For most of his life Bolin had felt uncomfortable with silence; he preferred to engage others in conversation, filling awkward pauses before they had even fully formed. But this quiet was relaxing, comfortable, homey. He had felt similarly with only one other person—Mako. 

Thinking about his brother caused a tight pain to form in his chest and stomach. Bolin inhaled sharply and tensed, causing the liquid to swiftly ripple away from him. 

Katara bent the water so that it stilled. “Relax,” she ordered. “Empty your mind. Stay in the present.”

Bolin turned to look at her. “Sorry. I was just thinking about my family…my brother. I didn’t leave Republic City on the best of terms with him.” 

Katara nodded, her face shinning in the gleam of the waves. “You will return to see him again.” She said, half a statement and half a question. Bolin inclined his head, confirming this. 

She spoke quietly. “Time will heal this rift. He will understand why you had to go, and will welcome you back. You will make amends and forgive one another.” 

The earthbender sighed, his chest rising and falling in the dim light. “I hope so. I really made a mess of things, though. Mako kept telling me I could talk to him, share my feelings and all that. I dunno why but…I just didn’t know what to say. I wanted to be alone, and part of me still does.”

Katara nodded again, her eyes glistening reflectively. “In many ways it is easier to isolate oneself in times of discouragement. Easier, perhaps, but not always preferable. You should consider talking to your brother and your friends. They will want to be there for you when you return.”

Silence descended once more in the shadowy hut. “Maybe you’re right.” Bolin admitted quietly after a while. 

A shadow of a smile ghosted over Katara’s face as she bent the water higher and caused it to pulsate gently. Bolin’s eyelids fluttered shut and his lips parted slightly at the sensation.

After a few more minutes Katara released the water. It returned to its translucent hue and settled in the pool with a dull splash. The waterbender helped Bolin stand, gently pulling him up from beneath his underarms. She handed him a soft white towel and he dried himself before she led him to a nearby cot filled with fluffy blankets. 

Bolin lay in the bed and Katara pulled the covers up around him. The room was pleasantly warm and the blankets were cushiony and comfortable. He rested his eyes, preparing to doze and Katara turned away to exit the hut. 

“Thank you, Katara. For everything.” Bolim murmured. Katara stilled and her mouth quirked up on one side. 

She inclined her head as she withdrew.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a fourth work set in the universe in which Bolin has Leukemia. Bolin relives his final conversation to Mako before he left for the North Pole.

The crinkled paper fell to the floor of the darkened room with a soft swishing sound. Bolin leaned his head back into his nest of soft pillows and sighed. He had read Mako’s latest letter a hundred times, and was still no closer to replying than he had been a week ago. 

The sickly earthbender leaned over the edge of his mattress and bent down, fumbling along the hut’s rough floorboards until his fingers brushed against the piece of paper. He gingerly picked it up by one of its rumpled corners before smoothing it out onto his lap. 

He had the characters memorized but he read through them once more anyway: 

_Bo—_

_It’s been almost a month since you left and I still don’t understand why you’re gone. I often wonder how you are, what you’re doing. Are you making friends? Has Katara helped you? Are you eating like the doctors told you to? Have you managed to stay warm in all that snow?_

_Without you Republic City is terribly dull. I spend most of my time chasing criminals, but lately this has seemed rather pointless. You put away one and three more spring up in his place; it’s never-ending, and lately it all just feels exhausting._

_I often think about what I said to you before you left. Bo, I am so sorry for how I acted. I had no right to try to control you or to force you to stay. It’s hard for me to remember sometimes that you’re grown up and that you’re perfectly capable of making your own decisions. I’m not trying to excuse the things I said—I was in the wrong. But I want you to understand how much I miss you, how much I care for you._

_Bolin, I want to be there for you at the end. Please come back to Republic City; or, if you prefer, send me word that it’s okay for me to travel to the South Pole._

_Please, Bo. I know that I’m being horrible and selfish but I just don’t think that I can get through this without seeing you again._

_I love you._

_—Mako_

A droplet of water fell onto the paper and blurred the ink of the character representing “love.” Bolin lifted his left hand and wiped under his eyes, preventing any additional tears from smearing the page. 

The earthbender leaned back once more, lost in thought. Memories of the last conversation he had with his brother swirled to the forefront of his mind, causing a dull ache to spread throughout his upper chest: 

_“Just leave me alone, Mako. This is something that I have to do, by myself. I don’t want you or anyone else to come with me.” Bolin spoke sharply, his voice raised louder than usual._

_“Don’t be ridiculous! You seriously expect me to let you run off to the South Pole and live with strangers?” Mako exclaimed. “You think that’s the best plan right now? The best way to…to spend the time that we have left?”_

_Bolin scowled and shuffled his feet. “Katara’s not a stranger,” he muttered._

_“That’s really not the point, Bo,” Mako began._

_Bolin’s scowl deepened and he spoke with more force. “It doesn’t matter what the point is! We aren’t talking about the time that WE have left—it’s the time that I have left! I’m the one dying here, Mako, not you.” A pained look crossed over Mako’s features and Bolin felt a brief surge of guilt._

_“Bolin…that’s…that’s not what I meant…” Mako backpedaled. “There are people here who care about you—who love you. We want to be there for you, to make sure you’re getting the care that you need.”_

_“Stop trying to protect me from this! I’m not six years old anymore, and you can’t just wrap Dad’s scarf around me to make me forget and go back to sleep! I don’t want to see you, or Katara, or Asami, or anyone else! I just want to be by myself and to go to the South Pole.”_

_Mako’s hands were starting to smoke and Bolin suspected that he was on the verge of accidentally bending. “Bolin, that is the most selfish and ridiculous thing I have ever heard you say! You belong here, with us! I can’t believe you would even consider abandoning your family at a time like this.”_

_“Mako, for the last time—THIS ISN’T ABOUT YOU!” Bolin shouted, and the clay walls surrounding the brothers shook. “You don’t get to tell me how to react to this. I am my own person and I will decide what I need to do!” Bolin spun around and picked up a small suitcase, walking towards their apartment’s front door._

_“Bo…wait, please! Don’t go. Please don’t go like this.” Mako pleaded, his voice cracking on the last word._

_Bolin didn’t look back. He turned the door handle and walked out._


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the fifth work set in the universe in which Bolin has Leukemia. Bolin reconnects with his brother after their fight.

The receiver felt cold and glassy against Bolin’s hands. He sighed, putting it down once more. He’d been inside of a small, private room of one of the government buildings—the only location in the Southern Water tribe that had a working phone—for almost an hour and still hadn’t accomplished the task he had set out to do.

Determined, Bolin picked up the receiver and once more punched in the requisite numbers. After a few moments an operator picked up, asking how to direct the call.

“Republic City Police Department.” Bolin said after a moment’s hesitation. More silence, and then the ringing began again.

“Republic City Police Department, front desk,” a light female voice said. “How may I help you?”

“Could I please speak with Officer Mako?” asked Bolin, dread germinating in his stomach. 

“Absolutely. Please hold.” Quiet descended on the line, and Bolin waited, biting his lip in nervousness. 

It seemed to take forever for his brother to answer. Bolin could feel his breath start to speed up and tried to concentrate on steading it, as Mako had attempted to teach him a million different times when he was a kid. It had never worked; the only surefire way for Bolin to quell stress was bending a nice, solid stone.

Too bad rocks were conspicuously absent in the South Pole.

“Hello?” Mako’s voice sounded distant on the other line. Bolin paused, anxiety washing over him in waves. 

“Hello? Bolin, is that you?” Mako asked again, his tone rising in hopefulness. 

Bolin cleared his throat. “Hi…yeah, it’s me.” 

“Bo…” Mako sighed. “I’m so glad you called...I mean…thank you for calling. How…how are you?”

Bolin chewed his lip. “Oh, you know, I’m okay. I’ve been spending a lot of time with Katara; she’s really been helping me, a lot.”

Mako spoke slowly, as if choosing his words very carefully. “That’s good; I’m really glad that she’s there to support you.” 

“How have you been?”

A pregnant pause. “Work is real busy. I haven’t had a lot of time to see Korra or Asami very much. But mostly…mostly it’s been lonely here, without you. Spirits, Bo, I really miss you.” 

“I know. I miss you too.” Bolin admitted quietly. 

“I realize that I wrote this to you, but I want to apologize again. I’m so sorry for what I said…how I acted. I shouldn’t have been so overbearing. Are we…are we okay?”

Bolin smiled. “Of course we are. We’re brothers,” he said, echoing Mako’s long ago words after their match with the Buzzard Wasps. 

Bolin could hear the grin in Mako’s voice. “That’s good to know. How have you been feeling?”

The corners of Bolin’s mouth fell abruptly. “Well…not so great. Mostly I’m real tired. Usually I feel…I dunno…sort of sore…like how I always felt right after a Fire Ferret’s practice.”

There was a pause in which Mako didn’t respond. Bolin continued: “I’ve also been…kinda…seeing things…now and then. People.” He laughed nervously.

“What do you mean?” Mako asked, his voice full of concern. 

“Oh, well, I’m not totally sure. Sometimes when I’m alone, at night…I see Shu, or other times Chan. They don’t really do anything…they just…sort of stand there.”

The ensuing quiet after Bolin’s words lasted so long that he thought the call might have been disconnected. 

“Bo. You know that these—uh…visions—that they can’t be real, right?” Mako asked. 

“Yeah, I know.” Bolin replied, annoyance coloring his tone. 

“Okay. This isn’t anything to worry about. You’re probably just thinking about them a lot, or else about something that reminds you of them. These sorts of things happen, sometimes.” Clearly worried, Mako defaulted into big brother mode: instructive, helpful, supportive.

Bolin sighed and tried to remember that Mako was just trying to show that he cared. “Right, Mako. I get that. Clearly I am thinking about them a lot, especially little Shu. Practically every minute of each day reminds me of him…what he went through, how he died.” 

“Bolin, I know that was really tough. Shu was a great kid, and he was crazy about you. But there’s nothing that you could have done. The surgeons too...they did everything they could.”

“Yeah.” Bolin said. “I know all that. I guess I just wish that things had turned out differently. For Shu, I mean.” _And also for me_ was left unspoken. 

“I know you do, Bo, and so do I. It seems like a lot of the time bad things happen to good people for no reason. It’s our job to deal with it all, I guess.” Mako said.

Bolin nodded, then remembered Mako couldn’t see him. “Yeah,” he replied.

Abruptly Mako changed the subject. “Bo…I don’t want to push you or anything, but I was wondering if you had given anymore thought to what I had said in my letter about…about you coming back to Republic City?”

Bolin cleared his throat again, stalling for time. “Yeah, I had. I’m sorry Mako, but I just don’t think that I can go back there.”

Mako swallowed, loud enough for Bolin to hear him over the phone line. He paused for a few moments before speaking. “Okay. I wish you would reconsider, but I respect your decision.” His voice was full of despondency. 

“I was thinking, though, that—if you still wanted to—you could maybe come here.” Bolin said quietly. 

“Yes! Absolutely yes!” Mako exclaimed almost at once, his voice rising in pitch and volume. “I will be on the next ship. Bolin, this is wonderful—thank you so much for allowing me to come!”

“No problem, bro.” Bolin answered. “I’ll let you go; I’m sure you have a lot of preparations to make.”

“I do! Thanks so much again! I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

Bolin hung up the receiver and began to tap his fingers absentmindedly on the desk in front of him. He stared straight ahead, lost in thought, not really seeing the tiny office. 

A pang of guilt shot through Bolin’s chest as he admitted to himself that he hadn’t been entirely truthful with Mako. If he had been honest he would have had to confess that his visitors—no, _hallucinations_ —were much more forceful than he had let on. He’d had full conversations with both of them, multiple times, and he was beginning to see them throughout the day, not just when he was alone. To be frank, they were starting to scare him.

Bolin stood up and walked across the small room. He couldn’t dwell on this now—he had a healing session with Katara in just half an hour. Bolin opened the wooden door and exited, heading towards the outskirts of the city.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is another scene set in the universe in which Bolin has Leukemia and is terminal. Bolin suffers hallucinations of deceased friends, and Mako deals with the aftermath.

The colors swirled together, creating a marbleized rainbow on the smooth board’s surface. Bolin pushed his brush into the middle of what had become a puddle of pigments, enjoying the resultant muddy tone as he mixed the concoction. 

He had always enjoyed brown. This shade was rich and deep, with a reddish undertone—the exact color of mud on a riverbank, or the clay tiling of Republic City’s roofs after a rainy afternoon. The hue reminded him of his favorite element: earth, and its component ingredients—dirt, silt-caked stones, the surface of the soil beneath the grass. 

Satisfied with the umber shade he had produced, Bolin lifted his brush to his painted canvas and began to shadow the trees of a beautiful mountainous landscape. He hummed absentmindedly as he painted, not quite producing a recognizable tune, and his strokes were relaxed and sure. 

Out of the corner of his eye something moved. Bolin tensed and froze, his gaze darting to the figure that had just materialized out of thin air at the room’s far edge. 

“Bolin. I’ve missed you,” Chan began, walking towards the earthbender.

Bolin eyed him warily and rested his brush on the paint-caked board, setting down both on the hut’s coarse floor. Lately his old friends ( _hallucinations_ , he kept having to remind himself) had become more aggressive, speaking to him at any time of the day or night. They were now prone to emotional displays, reciting impassioned speeches, crying, and even shouting. 

Chan walked up to the sickly earthbender and stood directly in front of him. Bolin looked at him, silently reciting _he isn’t real_ over and over again. 

“C’mon, Bo. Don’t you want to properly greet your old buddy?” Chan asked, raising his right hand. And damnit, but Bolin could actually feel the heat of Chan’s skin as he stroked up his forearm, stopping just at the edge of his rolled outer shirt. 

Bolin closed his eyes and turned his head away. “Don’t call me that,” he muttered, stepping back out of Chan’s reach. 

Chan laughed lightly and stepped closer. “Oh Bo,” he sighed, closing the distance between them and moving his head right in front of Bolin’s face. “You know you want it. I don’t know why you used to pretend not to. Don’t you know that you hurt my feelings?”

“You’re not real. You’re not real,” Bolin began to speak the mantra out loud as he turned his head away and shut his eyes. 

Suddenly he felt someone take his hand. Startled, his eyes flew open and he looked down, meeting an enormous amber set of a young child.

“Hi Bolin!” said Shu excitedly. “Are we going to paint together? You always said that you’d teach me!” 

Bolin wrenched his hand from Shu’s grasp and backed up. The hut’s room was small and he had reached the opposite wall after only a few paces. Chan and Shu stared after him, eyes never wavering from his. 

Tears welled in Shu’s large eyes. “Where are you going? Don’t you want to stay and play with us?”

Bolin crouched onto the hut’s floor, covered his ears with his hands and shut his eyes. “You’re NOT REAL! YOU’RE NOT REAL!” he spoke loudly, heart beginning to race and breathing unsteady. 

And suddenly Chan and Shu were right on top of him, grabbing his hands and forcing him upright. Panicked, Bolin pressed his back against the wall behind him. 

“This definitely is real,” said Chan, pressing his lips against Bolin’s. The earthbender’s breath hitched and he momentarily froze, lost in the sensation of Chan’s warm lips and flushed skin. 

“NO IT’S NOT!” Bolin shouted, pushing Chan away forcefully. 

Chan scowled and Shu began to cry. “Why would you hurt him?” asked Shu between sobs. “We just want to talk with you!” 

“This is your own fault, you know,” said Chan, a cruel tone coloring his voice. “It’s your fault we’re dead. I never would have done it if you hadn’t rejected me. Why did you do that?”

Bolin started trembling and sank to his knees.

The apparitions wafted closer. “I was all alone when I died,” said Shu, softly. “Where were you? Why weren’t you there for me?”

“Yeah, Bo, where were you?” echoed Chan. “Why did you abandon us?” 

Bolin jumped off of the floor and tore his nearest painting from the hut’s wall, throwing it at the ghostly figures in front of him. 

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” he screamed, and stormed to his easel, tossing it against the opposite side of his room as if it were weightless.

Panting, Bolin picked up his paint board and hurled it against the far wall, splattering paint everywhere—the walls, ceiling, floor, and across several of his completed works. He turned around and pulled down two other paintings, tossing them into a heap on the ground. Shards of splintered board flew everywhere.

Exhausted Bolin dropped to the ground. He leaned against the wall and pulled up his knees up to his chest. Rocking a bit, he brought his head down to his chest as a few stray tears leaked from his eyes. 

The doorknob turned and Mako’s head appeared. “Bo?” he asked, eyes widening as he looked around the demolished room.

The green-eyed earthbender looked up, relief flooding through him when he realized the figures of Chan and Shu had disappeared once more. 

“Hi.” Bolin said, his voice unsteady. He cleared his throat. “Sorry…I…it was Chan and Shu. They wouldn’t leave me alone. They…they were saying horrible things…”

Mako crossed the room and crouched down, wrapping his arms around Bolin tightly.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This scene is set in the universe in which Bolin has Leukemia. It is set a few months before he was diagnosed as terminal and left for the North Pole.

Bolin stepped out of the forest, shielding his eyes from the bright glare of the sun. He scanned around the clearing by the train tracks, looking for his younger friend. Chan had asked the earthbender to meet him here an hour ago and Bolin had agreed, worried about him. Chan’s mental state had not seemed the most stable since having been diagnosed as terminal a few days prior. 

Bolin’s gaze rested upon a young man—a boy still, really—dressed in red and grey, sitting on the grass. He strode forward and sank to his knees next to the firebender, facing the train tracks adjacent to them.

“Hi,” said Bolin, green eyes meeting the gold. 

“Hey,” Chan replied, looking away. 

“It’s a real pretty day out,” Bolin pronounced, ideally filling the silence with his chatter out of habit. “There’s a whole field of these white flowers between here and the city. They smell amazing! You want to go and see them?”

Chan shook his head. “What’s the point?” he said in a dull voice.

“Oh. I dunno…to appreciate nature and beauty and stuff?” Bolin asked. “I didn’t think flowers needed a point.” He laughed nervously. 

Chan pursed his lips and looked towards the train tracks broodingly. After a few moments Bolin started to prattle about other things he had seen on his journey, absentmindedly describing various aspects of his route.

“Bo. None of this is important,” Chan said, interrupting him. 

“I…wow…okay.” Bolin stumbled over his words uncharacteristically. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to annoy you.”

“I’m not upset. I feel…nothing. I just don’t think that any of this impacts me anymore. I mean…I’m dying. Maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow, but soon.”

“I know,” said Bolin softly, reaching up his hand and resting it on Chan’s shoulder.

Chan shrugged him away and a train whistle sounded distantly. “I’m not sure you do know. Sometimes I think you get it…but other times, not so much. We’re going to be dead Bolin, dead before the year’s end—maybe even before those stupid flowers.”

Bolin was silent, chewing on his bottom lip with his upper teeth. “Don’t talk like that,” he said.

Chan scoffed. “Why? It’s true. You know I’m right. Everything is just so…meaningless.”

Silence fell between the two benders and the train whistled again, closer. Chan stood up and brushed off his bottom.

Bolin rose as well, turning to his golden-eyed friend. “Do you want to head back to the City?” he asked. “We could go and get some Noodles; I’m starving!” 

“Nah, I’m not really in the mood to eat,” Chan said, head turned towards the train. He started to walk up the embankment to the tracks, back turned to Bolin.

“Oookay,” said Bolin, accenting the first syllable incredulously. “Well, we could go and catch the newest mover that just came out! It looked really scary—there’s a monster in it and everything…” he trailed off as Chan reached the top of the hill and straddled the train tracks.

“Um…Chan? What are you doing?” Bolin questioned.

“I think that I’m ready, Bo.” Chan said quietly. “I think that it’s time.”

The train whistled again, much closer now. “Chan, that’s crazy talk!” Bolin called, his voice rising in fear. “Get away from the tracks! C’mon—let’s discuss this.”

Chan shook his head and turned his body to face the train. It appeared in the distance, racing towards the benders at a roaring pace.

“CHAN!!” Bolin shouted, desperation coloring his voice. “GET OFF OF THE TRACKS!!!” He raced towards the embankment and up the hill, stumbling slightly on the damp grass. 

Bolin stopped a few feet from the firebender. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” Bolin screamed. “MOVE!!!” 

The train approached ever closer, whistle blaring. It was as if Chan didn’t even hear him. He simply stood, unwavering, eyes fixed upon the steel locomotive. 

Bolin stopped thinking and acted instinctually. He leapt forward with his powerful legs, sailing in front of the moving train and tackling Chan to the ground. The locomotive whistled past and the benders were sent flying down the track’s small embankment by the force of Bolin’s jump, coming to rest in a pile of soft, damp grass at the base of the hill. 

Chan began to laugh, his initial chuckles rising in pitch and volume until they eventually bloomed into slight hysteria. He pushed himself upright with his arms and doubled over, the force of his cackling apparently causing him breathing difficulty. 

Bolin also sat up, rage filling his chest. “What the hell, Chan?” he asked angrily. In response Chan continued to laugh, loudly and wildly, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. 

Bolin shook his head and began to conscientiously take deep breathes in and out, trying to steady his trembling limbs. He’d been absolutely terrified—for Chan, for himself, and he was still quaking in terror despite his best efforts. 

Chan’s laughter finally died away and he looked up at Bolin, still grinning. The earthbender scowled, flushed circles from his anger coloring his cheeks attractively. His emerald eyes were wide, accentuated by the bright green of the grass surrounding the benders. 

Chan moved to his knees and scooted forward, closing the distance between the two quickly. He reached a hand up and cupped Bolin’s cheek, stroking it lightly with his thumb. A look of confusion crossed the older boy’s features, and he pulled back slightly without thinking. 

Chan’s golden eyes sparkled and he leaned forward, closing them. Not fully comprehending the situation, Bolin sat still as Chan pushed his warm lips against his own. Bolin gasped into Chan’s mouth, freezing completely. Different emotions flooded his chest: surprise at Chan’s movements, anger at his impulsive behavior, and confusion as to what would be the appropriate reaction. And perhaps most disturbingly—arousal was now coursing through him, the telltale flutters quivering inside his stomach suggestively.

Bolin pulled back but Chan followed, leaning his weight on top of Bolin’s chest and pressing him backwards closer to the ground. Chan’s hand stroked up the side of Bolin’s face to his hair, and began to gently move across his cowlick on the back of his head. The kiss was quite pleasant; Chan’s lips were warm and moist, firmer and less hesitating than Opal’s…

At the thought of Opal Bolin’s eyes flew open and he raised his arms to the firebender’s chest, pushing at him forcefully. Chan disengaged, opening his eyes and flashing back a wide grin. He lifted his right hand and brought it to his own lip, stroking it lewdly.

Bolin flushed deeper and looked away. “I want to go home, Chan. Now.” He put on his best “I-mean-business” voice, trying to emulate the tone that Mako would regularly take with him when they were younger. 

“At your service,” said Chan, standing up. Still grinning, he led Bolin passed the clearing and back to his car.

________________________________________________________

 

Mako was waiting for him when Bolin entered their apartment. He was sitting on their couch, arms crossed and expression marred by a look of intense anger. 

Bolin sighed, knowing that Mako was ready for a fight. “Hi,” he said softly, shutting the door behind him.

“Bolin, what the hell?!” exclaimed Mako. “I come home and you’re gone—no note, no explanation, just an empty house. You know you’re not supposed to leave—you could get even sicker!”

“I know, I know,” Bolin said, crossing the small room and sitting at their table. “I’m sorry that you were worried, and I’m sorry that I forgot to leave a note. I had to go, quickly—Chan needed something and he had to have someone there for him…”

He trailed off as Mako’s fists started to smoke. “CHAN?!” Mako raised his voice. “Who cares what Chan needs? That kid is a total jerk, Bo. I can’t BELIEVE you would risk your life to go and help him!”

Even though Bolin was inclined to agree with his brother at the moment he felt the need to defend his friend. “Mako, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Chan is terminal; he’s scared, and alone, and he needs his friends right now—“

“I DON’T CARE WHAT HE NEEDS! YOU ARE NOT TO SEE HIM AGAIN—I FORBID IT!!” Mako shouted, and the smoke around his arms intensified, seemingly dangerously close to incineration. 

Bolin sighed again. He was sore and exhausted—much too tired to have this fight. “Whatever, Mako,” he said, standing up. “I’m going to nap.” He walked to his room, shutting and locking the door behind him.

Bolin sat on the edge of the bed and undid his sash. Shrugging out of his outer shirt he lowered his head into his hands and rested his elbows on his knees. After a few minutes he worked up the strength to unfasten his pants and lay down, shutting his eyes and pulling up his soft grey blanket.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is another scene set in the universe in which Bolin is the Avatar. Bolin has been captured by Zaheer and faces the consequences.

Before he was fully conscious Bolin was aware that he was in pain. Everything hurt—his head, his neck, his chest. There was a dull ache emanating from his shoulders and arms; wincing, Bolin realized that his hands were restrained behind his back. 

He groaned and opened his eyes. It was dark, though there was a strange greenish glow emanating from the walls. He pulled at his metallic restraints, testing them, but they would give no purchase. 

“No need for that, Avatar. You’ll never break through those—they’re platinum.” Ghazan said, sneering from a few feet away. Louder this time, he spoke again: “The Avatar is awake.”

Bolin heard nearby footsteps and Zaheer stepped into his line of site. “Good. Move him to the front and string him up.” 

Ghazan bent down and grabbed Bolin by the arm forcefully. “Get up,” he spat out. He pulled upwards, roughly. 

Bolin staggered upright and Ghazan steadied him by leaning his bulk against his chest. Bolin tried to pull away but Ghazan tightened his grip around his middle and laughed. Holding the green-eyed bender tight with one arm, Ghazan used the other to stroke down his chest in a mockery of gentleness. Bolin gritted his teeth and looked away.

“You don’t like that one bit, do you?” Ghazan murmured. He reached inside of the Avatar’s outer shirt, touching him lightly through his thin undershirt. Bolin bit the inside of his cheek to keep from retorting. 

“Ghazan, stop that at once.” Zaheer ordered, turning around and glowering at the lavabender. “Get him to the entrance immediately.” 

Ghazan glared at Zaheer’s back as he turned around, but did as he was told, forcing Bolin into the mouth of the cave. More platinum chains dangled from the ceiling and floor, and Ghazan attached them to the restraints circling Bolin’s wrists and ankles, unhooking his wrist cuffs so that his arms now dangled at his sides. 

Smiling cruelly, Ghazan backed up. “The Avatar is prepared! Tighten the chains!” 

_Uh oh_ , was all Bolin had time to think before the chains began to tighten, pulling his arms and legs wide. Bolin gritted his teeth as his extremities were stretched uncomfortably. He couldn’t help but let a grunt of pain escape as his arms were spread taunt, hoisting him off of the ground.

Legs and arms distressingly widened, Bolin’s shoulders began to ache from supporting his bodyweight. The Avatar lowered his head to his chest and attempted to control his breathing. He wouldn’t give the Red Lotus the pleasure of knowing that he was suffering. 

Zaheer stepped into the light and Bolin felt a ball of rage pool in his stomach. The airbender was the reason that Mako had fallen off of the edge of the cliff. Right now Mako could be hurt, broken, in pain, and Bolin wasn’t even there to help him. Of course there was the possibility that he could also be more…permanently injured. The green-eyed bender swallowed hard and pushed the thought from his mind. He couldn’t dwell on that likeliness and continue to remain strong and stoic. 

Zaheer began speaking, explaining the torture he was going to inflict on Bolin and what the poison would do once inside of him. He prattled on, discussing the merits of an Avatarless world, while Bolin listened silently. Brave and tenacious until the end, Bolin hung as solid as the boulders he preferred to bend, seemingly detached and impassive while his impending doom was openly narrated. 

He was glad that the Red Lotus couldn’t feel his racing heart or his sweaty palms.

“Administer the poison!” Zaheer called and Bolin ineffectively pulled on his chains despite himself. 

It burned when it touched his skin. Bolin turned his head to the side so he wouldn’t have to look at Zaheer and bit his lip to keep from crying out. After a few moments he could feel the triggering of the Avatar state, but he fought it. Maybe if he stalled for time someone might come for him. 

Eventually he could resist no longer. The Avatar state set in and red-hot rage was the last thing Bolin remembered before the world went white.


End file.
